Good Girl Gone Bad
by Devilslawyer123
Summary: Paul and Suze are an Item. Only... Paul Slater is an abusive boyfriend, and Suze kills her temper by fighting in school. A Sister reccomends a counsellor, and she accepts. but he turns out to be something she never expected... please review!
1. Chapter 1

**CHAPTER 1**

**SAME OLD, SAME OLD**

"Susannah Simon! Head for the detention room NOW!" yelled sister Ernestine. I chuckled and stood up, leaving my stepbrother Brad Ackerman lying on the floor and whimpering like a baby – and this guy is supposed to be champion in boxing? Yeah right! – I walked lightly to the detention room, a small box like room near the Principles office with a glass door and lots of crude paintings of Christ and Mary. A smug smile on my face, I stood obediently in front of the desk where a bunch of slips were scattered all over the place. Huh, and they accuse US of being untidy! It's not as if my room is what you call the cleanest in the house, still . . .

I fingered loosely through the green slips, and a particular name caught my eye. _Paul Slater. _Paul, my long term over possessive boyfriend who was a goody-two-shoe – or so he stated – had been in detention . . . Monday the 4. Oh, for _disobeying orders_! I chuckled and lifted the slip, fitting it in my pocket. If he got heavy with me, I could always black mail him into doing what I want. His rich we-are-the-best-parents-in-the-history-of-parents-and-our-son-can-prove-it won't be too happy about it.

I jumped as the door slammed shut behind me and Sister Somethingorother walked in, hands behind her back and big wooden rosary hanging between her over-sized jugs . . . I pulled away from the desk and took a step back. Sister Somethingorother stood in front of me, shaking her head in disappointment.

"Susannah, when you mother said you would not be any trouble, I believed her. But I now see that believing strongly in someone is not helping. Father Dominic does say you are a girl with . . . problems. I believe him not. I believe we have to get rid of the evil inside you, to rid you of your sins." I sucked in a sharp breath. Man, this wasn't going to be easy.

Sister Somethingorother produced a sheet of A4 paper and placed it somewhat significantly on the desk. I glanced at it and then back at her, uncomprehending.

"And . . .?" I muttered making a small circling motion with my hands and nodding my head in encouragement.

"I am sorry to say that . . . you will be the first student here to attend our counselling sessions. The doctor is a very kind man who understands teenagers and their, er, _problems._"

"You.Are.Joking." I hissed, narrowing my eyes and bunching my fists "you want me to see a _shrink_?" I screeched.

"Well, yes. We believe that your behaviour is abnormal for your age. After all, you _are _nearly eighteen! Punching and acting silly in the grounds is _not _what a 17-18 year old would do. You can go now. I will send the letter off to the doctor as soon as possible and you will receive a note in homeroom saying when your first session will be."

I hissed and left the room, slamming the door had behind me.

I walked to the parking lot and sat in my car, drumming my fingers to _beautiful lie _by 30 Seconds to Mars.

So I was to see a shrink. God, this was _crap! _I only acted that way because people _provoked _me for crying out loud! It's not as if I go round and sucker punch random people in the stomach everyday! Well, not since I lost my 'powers' or 'Gods gift' as Father D insists it is. I had been able to see – and speak – to the dead on a daily basis. It was crazy, bizarre and mind shatteringly exhausting. These spirits forgot about _sleep _once they had kicked the bucket, croaked; give up the ghost – literally – _die_. Ghosts usually hung about only when they didn't understand – or didn't _want _to – why they were still there.

_Craig Jankow _had been hanging about because his brother was supposed to die.

_Jorge somethingorother _had been hanging about because of a rosary he had to give back to someone, and on and on and on. It was always like that, "You the Mediator? Yeah, tell this and that to him and them." Oh, and did I mention you didn't get _paid _for this job?? It's not like I had signed up for this thing! I was born with it! And every minute of every day I had possessed this . . . _thing_, I had wanted to get rid of it, and now that I have . . . I miss is.

No more sneaking out in the middle of the night.

No more breaking and entering.

No more stealing.

No more police cars.

No more stealing cars to get away from a mad ghost . . .

Ah, the good life.

I had lost these 'powers' when I had a real bad accident and banged my head. I had been unconscious for three whole weeks and my powers left as soon as I opened my eyes.

I understand if they wanted to me to see a shrink for _this_! But for punching my brother? Nah, I don't think so.

The classes were let out for lunch – we don't have a bell – and I scanned the crowds for my best friends Cee Cee and Adam. I saw them standing by our Geometry class and I locked the car, jogging quietly toward them. This was the last time of day I wanted to see Paul.

OK, so he was the perfect boyfriend. At first.

After a while he got too . . . I dunno. _Depressing _was the word. It got too _depressing _hanging around him, with his super hot figure and glinting smile, but a crazy possessive mind . . . I admit, I did love it when we walked into a restaurant or café together and you could see the waitresses dribbling after him, and he was with _**ME**_ but that passes after a while, too.

"What did the Sister say?" Cee Cee asked, linking arms with me and dragging me to a shaded part of the grounds.

"Um, she's sending a letter to the school counsellor." I muttered, looking away. It was the most embarrassing thing that happened to me.

"No!" she hissed.

"Yes. She thinks I'm too. .. Something or other. She thinks I need to see a counsellor so they can get rid of my sins and the devils spirit living inside me." raising an eyebrow, Adam laughed. Cee Cee and Adam were going out. Adam had _finally _given up hope that I would go out with him so he settled for the fact that Cee Cee was head over heels for him. They are the cutest couple EVER.

"She thinks _you _are in need of a shrink? What about that Slater dude? He's a right possessive git!" he linked arms with me on the other side and leaned casually against the wall, tilting his head toward the sun. Adam is the class clown, and Cee Cee is the class albino and 'reporter'. She doesn't believe in anything that isn't scientifically proven.

"Huh. I wouldn't put it past Paul to have paid the school a thousand bucks to rid himself of any mental related people. He has one in his own house." This was true. His grandpa had burned brain cells, but only I knew that.

"Were you talking about me?" a husky voice hissed from the shadows. I jumped away from my friends and tucked my shaking hands in my pockets. Paul Slater walked slowly toward me, one arm swinging at his side, the other hand rested on his waist. He wore an olive green polo shirt and a pair of white jeans, uselessly bringing out his tan and the shape of his biceps.

This was going to be trouble.


	2. Chapter 2

**CHAPTER 2**

"Sir? I have a letter from Sister Lou Lou. It talks about an appointment with a certain 17-year-old Susannah Simon. I have heard rumours that she isn't going to be an easy sport." _Are any of them easy sports? _I asked myself sourly, but smiled at the pretty secretary who handed me the white slip of paper.

"Thank you, Haley, and please forward my thanks to Father Dominic and the convent. I would get back to them as soon as possible." I smiled at the lady, and blushing, she left, closing the door softly behind her.

I ran my hands through my black hair and tilted my head back, moving the blinds just a bit so I could let some of the blinding sun in. it was impossible to live a day without melting in this heat. It _was _California, after all, but when I had accepted the job, I hadn't thought that it was going to be _this _hot! I opened the window a little and breathed in the hot air that floated silently through the blinds . . .

A minute or two of fresh air was all it took to make me work again. I sat back and picked up the ink-smeared slip of paper.

Ah, now I know what they mean by 'not an easy sport'. In custody for breaking and entering, fighting, stealing cars . . . was this a girl or a boy? Never heard of a 17-18 year old _girl _doing these things.

I sighed and took my appointment book, leafing through it until I found an empty date. The yellow paper was old and dusty, for I hadn't opened it up in a long time.

I sifted through the loose documents and student pictures. A particular picture caught my eye. Dropping the book noiselessly on the table, I picked up the picture and brushed the dust off it.

The picture revealed a beautiful girl of about sixteen. Black hair up in a ponytail, black beaded choker, dark lip-gloss, liquid eyeliner and dark eye shadow. She stared angrily at the camera, her red lips forming in an ireful pout. Her sweet face was portrayed by a hand resting lightly on her cheek and the other grabbing hold of something beyond the camera. I glanced at the bottom of the picture, chewing anxiously on my bottom lip, until I saw the name.

Susannah Simon.

_This _was the girl I had to treat? _Nombre de Dios_! She was beautiful, like a Dark Angel fallen to earth. I sighed and leaned back in my chair, the hand that was not holding on to the picture running frantically through my hair.

What was I going to do? The law clearly stated I couldn't fall for a girl under the age of eighteen, and even though she is nearly of age . . .

What was I thinking? No! no, this couldn't happen. I would have to move her on to another counsellor.

I picked up the desk phone and dialled Father Dominic's number.

"This is The Mission Academy principle speaking, how may I help you?" the soft voice asked through the other line.

"father! Father, I have a problem with the girl I have to, er, _treat. _I don't believe-''

"Ah, Dr. De Silva! Is there a problem?" he asked chuckling silently.

"Um, no. not exactly. I am a little busy these weeks and I was wandering if . . . you could move Susannah Simon to another counsellor? Just for a limited time, of course." I waited anxiously for the answer, which was not what I had been expecting when it came.

"Ah, Dr. De Silva, that _is _a problem. You see, you are the only counsellor here who is offering free counselling for students. We would have to call a private one and that would, of course, cost a lot of money." Father Dominic was using THE voice. The voice that made you want to break yourself in four so you could make him happy.

"Oh, of course! Well, I will see what I can do, sir. Thank you very much." I did not wait for his answer and hung up straight away. Of course, I could do this! I have been through a lot worse than a rebel girl walking into my office and feeding me a line I would probably follow.

Still . . .

I glanced back down at my appointment booklet and leafed through the pages, looking for a date not far from now. The sooner I get over with it, the better.

Sighing, I lifted my fountain pen from its resting on the papers, and scrawled Susannah Simons name the date of the day after. I opened the desk drawer and took out a light slip of blue and white paper, scrawling the girl's name, time and date of the appointment on.

Sighing again, I pressed the red 'call' button and called for my secretary.

"Haley? I have an appointment ready for Susannah Simon. Could you please forward the slip to her homeroom teacher, thank you." Haley walked in a minute later and took the slip of paper, brushing her fingers accidental before blushing and leaving the room.

Only a blind man could not see what the woman felt for me in her eyes. Unfortunately, I could not find a trace of affection for the woman other than the affection you find for someone after working worth him or her for three years.

My father is always asking if I found a woman yet, and if I was in love. I knew he wanted me to get married as soon as possible, so I could give him a son and the De Silva male line would not end after me.

Closing my appointment book, I picked up my pen and papers and started to pack everything away.

The picture of my small flat complete with sea view and small café in front made me more eager to get back than I usually was.


	3. Chapter 3

**CHAPTER 3**

The slip came through the next morning in homeroom. I hadn't expected it to be _this _early. Jeez, what was wrong with these people? Did they think I had a couple of loose marbles and I was an urgent case? Probably yes.

It was a small slip of paper the size of my palm. The writing was neat and slightly slanting, the ink black and dense in some parts as if the author had made sure that it was readable. The writing gave an air of someone old and probably professional.

Great. Now an old loser who had nothing better to do than treat some kids mental illness was treating me.

Coz that's what it was. I looked it up on the internet at home, and it said a counsellor was somebody, usually a professional, who helps others with personal, social, or psychological problems. Then, I looked up what 'psychological' means and it came up with affecting or intended to affect the mind or mental processes.

See? They thought I was in need of mental treatment!

**Name: **_Susannah Simon_

**Date: **_10__th__ October. _

**Time: **_1.20pm – 2.30pm_

**Counsellor: **_Dr. Jesse De Silva_

**Room: **_Counselling office. Behind the Principles Office, turn left and you will find a small cottage like place. Please ring the 'counsellor' bell and not the 'Behaviour Support' bell._

10th of October . . . huh, that was _today_. The nutter gave me instructions to get there.

Yeah right. Like I was _going._

Cee Cee whistled under her breath and whispered, "Dr. Jesse De Silva. Ooh, they say he's _hot_." She read the name repeatedly from over my shoulder.

"Yeah, hot in the _head._" I muttered, tapping my temple for extra effect. Kelly Prescott passed by, the smell of Chanel 5 (**A/N: I have no idea how to spell It. sorry if it is wrong.**) overpowering. My instincts told me to pull away from the smell before I was suffocated, but Kelly leaned forward, her jacket open, revealing tanned skin and a long gold necklace.

"Ooh, Simon has to see a counsellor. Sucker." She purred the last word and laughed, pulling away and walking out of the room into the hot courtyard. I hissed under my breath and squeezed my hands into fists, resisting the urge to knock her block off. Growling, I stood up and slammed the chair so hard back in its place that it rang against the table.

Adam laughed and took Cee Cee's hand, pulling her to their first lesson.

I looked back down at the slip of paper. Cee Cee had said he was 'hot'. What if it was true? And what if I fell for this guy big time?

Paul would kill me.

No, he would kill my counsellor, and then kill me and then bring me back to clean up the mess. Because Paul Slater could do that. He wasn't a mediator. He was a _shifter_, which meant he could go anywhere he wanted as long as he pictured that particular place and he'll be there, and it also meant that he could get ghosts working for him. He had Hell's Angel's working for him!

Sighing, I headed for my first lesson, clutching the piece of paper tightly in my hand.

Glancing at the slip and then back again, I spotted the bell spelling 'counsellor'. I pressed it and watched the small green light flash three times.

When Paul heard that I needed to see a counsellor, he laughed. A _proper _boyfriend wouldn't have laughed. He would have asked _why_ I was going. But Paul wasn't a proper boyfriend. He was a life sucking scumbag. I can't even remember why I accepted to go out with him! Maybe I had fallen in love with him when I was an innocent teenager who didn't know what he was. He had trapped me in his spell, and I couldn't get rid of him now.

The door opened and a pretty girl smiled at me. Her badge read _Haley Montrose._

"Er, hi? Um, I have an appointment with . . ." I held the slip of paper. She laughed and took my arm, pulling me in.

"You are here to see Jesse De Silva, yes? A great doctor. You are very lucky to have him." She sat me down on a soft armchair.

"Would you like anything to drink? Or eat?" she asked, smiling at me. Her blue eyes sparkled as if she really meant what she said about my doctor.

"Er, no thanks."

"OK. Dr. De Silva will call you in a minute. He has a patient and is running late." I nodded and she smiled again, heading for a small desk piled with papers. She picked up a pen and started to sign the papers, letting them fall gently into a box situated near her chair.

The place wasn't a cottage. Not even, _close. _It was a small white building, taking up the space behind the principles office – which wasn't much.

The place was . . . home like. A coffee table was near the door with magazines and leaflets. There was a wooden door a few meters away from the desk, from which I could hear the murmur of voices.

I jumped as I heard the phone rang.

"Dr. De Silva's office, how can I help you? . . . Oh, no sir. Jesse is with a patient right now, would you like to leave a message? Um, I don't know when he can get back at you. This is a busy week and- '' she was cut off as an angry voice shouted from the other end of the line.

"Well yes I understand. . . Of course, of course . . . yes, I will let him know . . . yes, OK. Thank you Mr. De Silva." She put the phone back in the cradle, and started working again.

The door opened and a boy of about my age came out, handing a slip to the secretary who signed it. The boy left calmly, but slammed the door behind him making sure that we knew he was _NOT _calm.

The counsellor came out, running his tanned hands through his black hair and handing a letter to his secretary, who blushed and laughed shyly.

He then turned the full power of his gaze on me and gestured to me to go inside.

I walked in and sat on one of the chairs in front of the big desk. A phone, papers, pens, pencils and other items were scattered around the desk. Only one spot was clear enough at the corner of the desk where a laptop was placed, a small green lighting blinking consistently. Sighing, I leant back in my chair and crossed my legs grumpily. My doctor walked in, a pile of papers in his arms that he then dropped on the floor by his chair. He sat in the seat on the other side of the desk and sorted through some papers, each one with my name on it.

"So, you are Susannah Simon. Do you know why you have been sent here?" he asked, his voice warm and soft, lulling my agitated nerves. I nodded and swallowed. He was inexcusably _gorgeous_. Black hair, dark eyes, his eye lashes were longer than mine, and I was already trying to take a peek of what was going on under that white shirt he was wearing.

"Er, Sister Lou Lou said you have to rid me of my sins and the evil that has possessed me." I said with a snort. Dr. De Silva laughed warmly and tapped the screen of his laptop knowingly.

"Of course, Miss. Simon. You see, hitting someone round the head with a four hundred hardback book with apparent no reason _did _make you seem a little . . . scary. But this isn't the first time, is it? You have kicked, punched, beat, tripped, stole, and humiliated these particular people a number of times before they contacted me to stop it. To stop you." He smiled at me and I glared out of the large window behind him.

"I did it with reason, sir. I do _not _go round and beat the crap out of someone with 'apparent no reason'! Do you see me in that role? Dopey totally provoked me with that party!" Dr. De Silva laughed at my fuming, leaning forward conspicuously.

"And were you provoked when you slammed Kelly Prescott's head into her locker?" I growled and my fists clenched.

"Look she's a cow and I HATE her, OK? If you have ever hated someone, then you'll know! Paul and I had gone to a party – I didn't wan tot go but didn't have a choice – and Kelly was there. She got off with him and then when we were in school she rubbed it in my face and started throwing little notes around the school, taping them on lockers and stuff. The notes said stuff like 'frigid with her own boyfriend' and 'Queen Slut with other guys, you know what I mean.' It was all very Mean Girls. I cornered her and couldn't help it. I didn't care that she got off with my boyfriend but the things she _said _were the things that drove me to hit her." Dr. De Silva frowned and wrote something on a pad of paper.

"Why wouldn't you care that your boyfriend got off with someone in front of your very eyes and with someone you _loath _so much?" he murmured.

"I don't love him and he can cheat on me how much he wants. I will _never _love him." I hissed. This session was really starting to get on my nerves.

"Then why are you with him? This doesn't make very much sense, Miss. Simon. I have learnt from experience that you should tell he or she what you really feel. Whether it is good or bad." He had an accent that made my insides melt with something I have never experienced before. He was very American- Latino. My best friend Gina back in Brooklyn would have planted a smacker on him right there and then.

"Huh, it's not _that _easy. I tried once and the only think that resulted was a bruised cheek bone and sprained wrist." I muttered, hoping he didn't hear.

Unfortunately he did.

"He beats you." It wasn't a question. He scribbled something else on the pad and grimaced as he typed something on his computer.

"Yes." I answered his not-a-question question.

"Did you tell anyone?" his voice was serious now, not that warm laughing voice he had welcomed me with.

"What's the point?" I hissed under my breath.

"I asked you a question and I will be grateful if I get an answer, Miss. Simon." The voice he used frightened me.

"No, I didn't. There is absolutely no point in telling anyone. He can bribe anyone I tell with huge amounts of money." I stood up and swept my bag off the floor. As I headed for the door, Dr. De Silva touched my arm.

"Miss. Simon, I am not trying to be nosy here, OK? I am just doing my job and I don't think that what this Paul person is doing is correct. I am trying to help you. Please sit down." His dark eyes were round and apologetic. I tried to think of a way of escaping that didn't involve him getting hurt.

At the end, I sat back down. And the questioning went back on.


	4. Chapter 4

**CHAPTER 4**

She was much more beautiful in person than in an old picture. Her hair was longer now, past her shoulder, going down to her back. She still looked like a Dark Angel falling to earth, but somehow scarier.

Her eyes were big and blue, rimmed with black kohl. My sister has make up all over the house so I know every item, especially when she calls me and asks, "Have you seen my Summer Red lip-gloss?"

When Susannah Simon told me about her abusive boyfriend, I typed in abuse on the internet, away from her eyes. It came up with consequences for abuse, and pictures came up with women's face ruined by bruises and cuts.

This concerned me. Susannah looked like the type of girl who could take care of herself, so said her records, but what scared me the most was the fierce look in her eyes as she spat the name of the man she is supposedly tied to.

"Paul Slater!" her eyes were narrowed and her beautiful upper lip upturned into a scowl.

I arched an eyebrow and wrote on my notepad some . . . notes. I didn't need them of course, but Father Dominic had told me that if the security ever came searching or making sure, we had to have our, er, 'records' of patients before and after treatment.

I just got an e-mail from Jake.

From: Jake Ackerman Jesse De Silva Juicy.

_Dude, I heard you're treating my step-sis. _

_Whaddya think of her? Juicy ain't she? Anyway, dad wants to know if you'll be joining us for Sunday lunch?_

_Oh, Dad just said to keep your ands off Suze. She's taken, but I don't like the dude. You can have her and make her happy, OK?_

_Anyway, gotta go or I'll be late for the job I'm up for two times in a row!_

_Love,_

_Jake._

_P.S I KNOW you like her! You HAVE TO LIKE HER! She's Über coo. Even Bad thinks so and he hates having a girl in the house that'll crush his style._

"Right, Susannah, I'll see what I can do, but right now our hour is up. When you go out, go to Haley and ask for an appointment. I'll get back at you as soon as possible." I handed her a card with my number on for 'emergencies'.

Susannah smiled and took the card, tucking it neatly in her back jeans pocket. I had to resist the urge to wrap my arms around her and kiss her.

She stood up and opened the door, lifting her bag slowly to her shoulder.

"Thank you, Dr, and I'll try not to be a pain." With that, she left and closed the door quietly behind her. I stared at the door for a while, listening to the muffled noises out in the hallway. Haley was on the phone again.

I hit 'reply' and typed quickly.

From: Jesse De Silva Jake Ackerman Juicy

_I don't think juicy is the right word for your stepsister, but there are many words in the vocabulary that might sound too flattering._

_Susannah isn't a hard job at all, more like a person with a lot of problems that she doesn't want to talk about, so our meetings consist me of staring at her mouth and asking boring questions while she gives me a death stares and answer my boring questions with other not-so boring answers._

_Who's Paul Slater? She seems to have problems with him and I don't like the look in her eyes when she utters the name._

_I would love to come for Sunday lunch, but I hope the wine isn't too strong. I had a horrible headache last Sunday._

_Sorry to moan at you like this, Jake. You don't deserve it. I am a twenty-year-old who hates his life. End of story._

_See you Sunday,_

_Jesse._

_P.S you have my number, right? Don't you dare call me in the middle of the night EVER AGAIN if you want to have both your kneecaps._

I hit 'send' and watched the e-mail folding itself and going in a yellow envelope before disappearing off the screen. I shut down the computer and pushed my chair back, standing up.

I could hear the students laughing and screaming outside in the academy grounds, and the sun hit the warm tiles, making them sizzle in the afternoon sun.

When I got home that evening, I headed for the shower straight away. My head was pounding with all the problems a man my age would have. Girlfriend, appointments to maintain, bills to pay, food to purchase, etc . . .

As the water pounded over my body, I relaxed, the knots the muscles in my back had made disentangled and I smiled a little to myself.

Therefore, Susannah Simon hadn't been what I expected her to be. From the look on her face when she saw me, _I _wasn't what _she _expected me to be either.

I stepped out and dried myself off quickly, before stepping in a pair of old torn jeans. I took a beer out of my fridge and made a note to myself to go buy some food tomorrow.

I had a big bay window with the view of the sea. That was my favourite part of the small apartment. I leant out of the window and drank my beer silently. I had my mobile in my pocket and hopefully it wouldn't ring until the morning when the alarm went off.

As I stared at the sea, something caught my sight and I inclined my head slightly to the left.

Two people were fighting by the shore.

A girl and a boy.

Narrowing my eyes, I saw the man raise his fist and slam it in the girls face. She was motionless for a minute before she slapped him and sent him down with a punch to the guts.

She fled.

I carried on watching as the boy stood up and looked around searchingly before limping off the beach onto the road.

My mobile bleeped, signalling a message and I reluctantly tore my gaze from outside the window long enough to read the message.

_I'm on my way, be ready luv Mariaxxx_

I groaned in frustration, dropped my phone onto the couch, and closed the window. Maria was on her way and I did not want to see her.

Father D had told me many times to break up with her, but how could I do that without making her cry? She knew that crying would soften me up and she used it a lot when I didn't want to do or give her something.

I was just about to pluck up the courage and tell her not to come when the bell rang, and I had no choice but to answer the door with a more than fake smile.

"Maria, love, I wasn't expecting you until tomorrow. What are you doing here?" I still had the bottle of beer in my hand and I set it down gently on the table when really, I wanted to smash it.

She was dressed in a lace blouse and cut-off jeans. Her legs and arms and face were tanned, her fingers expensively manicured and her blue eyes blinking sweetly up at me.

"Jesse! I'm your fiancée! Of course I wanted to see you!" she squealed, wrapping her arms around me and kissed my neck.

About that. Now you see why I can't fall for the very alluring, sexy, sweet, lovely, kissable Susannah? I was getting married in less than two months and I was to tell my father soon. He liked Maria and we have been seeing each other since college. I thought by the time we graduated and I moved into an apartment and started working for the Mission Academy things would cool off and she would give me some space, but no. she was indomitable about us being together. I also knew she wasn't all so faithful. I saw how her eyes roved on every guy that she thought were erogenous. The thought of her in another mans bed when we were engaged disgusted me and that's what made me more and more distant around – or from – her.

I didn't love her.

It was impossible to love her.


	5. Chapter 5

**CHAPTER 5**

"I'm home!" I yelled, slamming the front door close behind me.

Brad was in the living room playing on his X-Box with a couple of mates from school. Jake was – ahem – _sleeping_, and David was nowhere to be seen.

"We don't care, Suze." Brad drawled. Drawling on him sounded like he'd been smoking bud since the crack of dawn, whilst on Dr. De Silva it sounded . . . sexy. I glowered at my stepbrother and pinched his shoulder extra hard. He yelped and turned to face me, blushing slightly in front of his mates.

And that's when he saw my face.

Not the _look _I was giving him, more like the huge bruise that was forming under my left eye, and the cut on my lip.

"Suze," he breathed, "What _happened_?" he dropped the controls and took me by the arms, dragging me to the kitchen.

I, of course, fought the whole way.

"Brad! Let GO! I'm fine! Don't say you haven't seen me battered and bruised before!" at this, Jake – sleepy – opened his eyes and clocked Brad applying something wet and clod on my poor face. His mates had come through to the kitchen to grab more beers – and I bet they also came to see what Brad would do when his sister came home hurt.

"Was it Paul again?" Jake yawned. I kicked him in the ankle and he gave a cry of pain. Metal toecaps HURT.

Brads friends sniggered and strolled back to the living room where I heard them a laughing a second later.

"Brad, go away. You're ruining your ruined reputation." I muttered.

"Huh, Suze. I'm NOT doing this for you, OK? Do you realise what would happen when your mum and our dad come home from their second honeymoon to see you, er, _harmed _in any way?" I ripped the wet cloth from his hands and marched to my room, making sure I banged the door EXTRA loud.

My phone rang a minute later and I picked up, answering a sour 'hello?' into the receiver.

"Susie? It's mum, how are things back home?" my mother asked, a bit anxious I must say.

"We're fine, mum, I'm making sure that Brad doesn't smash the house into bits, the Jake doesn't fall asleep while he's driving and that David doesn't low the house apart with some crazy experiment of his." The line was silent for a while and I thought she'd hung up. After all, I hadn't really answered all so nicely like the Suze she knew.

"Honey, do you want us to come home?" she asked.

"No mum. You stay there in wherever you are. As I said, everything's fine here, don't you trust me? Say hi to Andy for me."

"OK, honey. Call us if you need anything and we're in the Caribbean now. I have to go now, calling from a cruise costs a fortune. Love you." I knew she'd expect me to say 'love you too' but I REALLY wasn't in the mood for it. Instead, I sat myself down on my bed and did some algebra homework.

My phone rang again and I let it go to voicemail.

_Click._

**Suze, I know you hate me. Can you forgive me? I never intended to hurt you and you KNOW that! Why would I hurt you when I love you? How could I do such a thing? Look, why don't you call me and we'll sort things out? I miss you. A lot. I mean it. Please? Please say you'll see me again? I love you.**

_Click._

Huh, he actually had the guts to call and try to make it up to me. He had said that he never meant to hurt me EVERY TIME he slapped, punched, kicked, and pinched me. It was unbelievable the face of this guy! I unplugged the phone and switched my laptop on, that took me straight to my 'inbox'.

Five new messages.

From: Jake Ackerman Susannah Simon thinking

_Why are you so obsessed by blood? And death? And Hell?_

_Anyway, how's your eye? You want me to beat him up for ya? He's a right arsehole! What are you doing with him? You deserve better._

_Anyway, Jesse De Silva is coming for Sunday lunch, so you had better show up._

_Jake._

I shook my head and hit 'reply'.

From: Susannah Simon Jake Ackerman thinking

_First, I had no idea you had the capacity of thought. Second, why are you e-mailing me when you can just come up the stairs and talk?_

_Third, is Jesse De Silva by any chance a doctor?_

_Fourth, I am so obsessed by the listed stuff in your e because it's so . . . real and true._

_Stop e-ing me, love._

_Suze._

Well, that was the first e-mail!

I clicked on 'inbox 2' and an e-mail came up.

From: Kelly Prescott Susannah Simon Let's Get This Over With

_Suze, _

_I know you and Paul are having, erm, 'issues' in your so much loved relationship. I wonder if I can help? I mean, you and Paul are soooo perfect 4 each other, and it would kill me to see Paul hurt! Anyway, you know I will welcome Paul warmly, and know you don't want him. I wonder if you can make him see sense?_

_Love ya,_

_Kellz_

Ooh, Kelly! I would LOVE to help! The big problem is that Paul WON'T see sense!

I typed this quickly and red through the three e-mails remaining. Two were from mum assuring everything was OK, and the third was from my long lost loyal friend Gina. Wow, I missed her so much! I shut down the computer and I lay back on my bed, discarding the wet towel, feeling the red bruise forming under my eye.

Paul was always hitting me when things didn't go the way he wanted them to go. And he didn't want me to see a counsellor, scared that I might blab on him.

Which I might have done in the heat of the moment.

I closed my eyes and felt myself drift off . . .


	6. Chapter 6

CHAPTER 6

**CHAPTER 6**

Maria's eyes sparkled and twinkled up at me as I prepared a mixed cocktail for her. Her favourite. Hopefully, after that she'll leave and I'll be able to get on with my work. I handed the cocktail to Maria who smiled up at me sexily, and just as I was about to open my mouth and tell her _something _my computer bleeped with a new e-mail.

To: Jesse De Silva >

From: Father Dominic >

Subject: Your new client

_Dearest Jesse,_

_About your new client – Susannah Simon – I heard you were a little, er, worried this afternoon when you called. I beg of you to tell me if there is any problem whatsoever regarding Susannah. She is a very difficult girl to understand and I would love to help you._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Father Dominic._

Smiling a little at Father D's concern I clicked 'reply' and typed quickly:

To: Father Dominic - FatherDominicthemissioncom -

From: Jesse De Silva >

Subject: Your new client

_I thank you, Father D, but I realised how easy Susannah is to get through. We had a long discussion today about her thoughts on this certain Paul Slater she is seeing. Father D, she more or less revealed he beats her. Could this be sorted? I am very worried._

_Thank you,_

_Jesse._

Maria came up behind me and wrapped her slender arms around my torso. She kissed my neck and whispered,

"Can't you stay away from your job for five minutes while I'm around? You seem to not want me anymore." I sucked in a breath at the words. I had been thinking just that.

"It's just about this new client, that's all. Father Dominic wants me to write a report on her after every session." I rolled my neck and feigned I was thirsty so I would not have to be so close to her. The thought if her touching me once made my pulse quicken in a matter of seconds. Right now, the thought of her touching me was . . . _repulsing. _I didn't want her anymore as I once did, and I knew I had to tell her eventually.

I chose sooner.

"Maria . . ." I started, watching her swivel on the office chair like an eager child, but she stopped when she saw my face. Not a sign of good news I hoped.

"Maria . . . I can't marry you." I blurted. Her face was emotionless before tears welled up in her eyes.

"What do you mean, you can't marry me?" she screeched. I licked my lips and ran a hand through my hair, glancing out of the window for inspiration.

"It's not you . . . it's me. I'm not good enough for you and I don't think its right that you end up with someone like Me." finally, I met her gaze. She didn't seem to believe me.

"Bullshit!" she screamed, throwing her empty cocktail glass my way. I ducked at the last minute and the glass exploded into tiny shards that rained around me. She fell to her knees and started to cry.

"Why d-don't y-you w-w-want me?" she wailed. I sighed and walked over to the window, my back to her.

"I DO want you, Maria. I do, believe me! It's just . . . things have been going too fast between us and this has turned out to be a great mistake. I still love you but… I'm not ready to marry you. I'm sorry." It was silent for a minute and when I turned round, the flat was empty.

My phone alerted me instantly with a message the minute I stepped into my office. I was not to see Susannah until the next week, so I had nothing else to do but sign papers and answer e-mails. When my phone bleeped, I absentmindedly pressed the answer button.

Maria's voice hissed at me, "I talked with your father, Jesse, about us getting married so you cannot get out of this. You don't get rid of ME so easily."

Sighing, I answered politely, "Maria, I told you everything last night. If you want to go on with the wedding, then I will not show up on the altar. I'm sorry." I hung up, feeling like the horrible monster I was. What kind of man utters those words to a woman?

Someone knocked on my door and I tiredly called, "Come in." Haley walked in, saying quietly, "Your father is on the phone, Jesse. I can't tell him you're out anymore. He's called five times already." I nodded and picked up my phone.

"Hello father."

"Jesse, you did not tell me that you were getting married! What wonderful news. Why did you not tell us before?" my fathers voice was full of fake happiness. He was only happy for what he would achieve throughout this.

"Father, we are not getting married. I broke off the engagement last night. I found out that we haven't got so many things in common as I once thought . . ." I trailed off, waiting for the shouting match to come. I did not.

All I heard was the ominous _click _of a phone cutting off the line.


End file.
